


hashtag dishwasher and ice cream

by saltysfeathers (saltyfeathers)



Series: hashtag relatable [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3689271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltyfeathers/pseuds/saltysfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one with the dishwasher and ice cream</p>
<p>cas the strategist strikes again</p>
            </blockquote>





	hashtag dishwasher and ice cream

dean just wants to eat some ice cream. he just wants to eat some ice cream. he JUST wants to eat some ice cream and it shouldn’t be this hard to eat some ice cream but he is on the WAR PATH because SOMEONE fucked up and has made it difficult for him to eat ice cream, which is unfair because he loves ice cream, mostly because it’s so simple to eat.

“SAM” he barks, “CAS” he rings the cow bell he bought at a flea market last month because he knows they both hate it enough that they’ll show up just to double team him to make him shut the fuck up. Although he also uses it as a dinner bell and they don’t complain THEN, the fucking traitors. “FAMILY MEETING IN THE COW BELL ROOM.”

sam blunders in like he always does in his gangly, uncoordinated way, and cas shows up a couple seconds later, looking just about as grumpy as he always does.

“it’s called a kitchen, dean,” sam says tiredly. “we’re in the kitchen.”

dean knocks on the bell in time to the syllables as he says, “COW-BELL ROOM,” and both sam and cas cover their ears and glare at him. dean puts the cow bell down.

“oh im sorry,” he says, “was that annoying you?”

“I was sleeping,” cas says, but dean ignores him.

“BECAUSE,” dean’s stirred himself up here, he went and played a couple rounds of mario kart on the highest difficult to really get the adrenaline flowing. sam calls it childish and “just plain strange” but you know what sam? go play rainbow road on hard and get the fuck back to me about how jazzed up you get. dean walks over and stands in front of the dishwasher. “I am also annoyed. AS I RECALL,” dean continues to say in all caps, gesturing dramatically at the dishwasher, “there is a RULE in this BUNKER, that all dishes must go in the DISHWASHER.”

both sam and cas look at the sink, which is currently empty of dishes.

“uh…………………………………………………………” sam says, “they…….. did? There’s no dishes in the sink.”

Dean wags a finger at him.

“correct,” he whispers conspiratorially. “there’s not a single. fucking. dish.”

“im going back to bed,” cas says mildly, turning to walk out of the room.

“I won’t give you a blow job tonight,” dean calls out, as sam makes a Very Dramatic Face and groans, “really, dean?” but it seems to work, because cas stops in his tracks, and then verrrry slowly returns to his original spot beside sam, who has a pained look on his face and is probably unintentionally picturing the guy beside him getting blow jobs from his brother who was basically a mother _and_ a father to him.

“if I leave are you going to refuse to give me a blow job too?” he snaps.

“no,” dean says calmly, “but ill put a super special ingredient in one of your dinners at some point in the next month.”

sam narrows his eyes.

“ _what_ super special ingredient?”

“wouldn’t be super special if I told you, would it?” he asks, and then stage whispers, “laxatives” to cas.

“oh my god dean just tell us what you want.”

“what do I want?” dean asks innocently. “whaT DO I WANT?!?!” he laughs hysterically, yanking open the cutlery drawer. “come hither, gentlemen.”

Sam and cas slowly come forward and peer down into the drawer.

“what do you see?” dean asks softly.

“… cutlery?” sam asks.

Dean smiles menacingly.

“look closer,” he suggests.

“we’re out of spoons,” cas observes flatly.

Dean takes cas’ face between both hands, smooshing his cheeks together,

“that’s correct,” he says dangerously.

“so?” sam asks.

Dean lets go of cas’ face.

“ _SO_?” he repeats, offended. “ _SO_??!?!” 

He bounds over to the dishwasher and opens it with a flourish.

“Come,” he encourages, and in this moment he looks an awful lot like that witch from Hansel and Gretal who likes shoving people into ovens, “please, come and look.”

sam and cas come and look.

“the dishwasher is full,” cas says.

“and its state?” dean asks.

“dirty,” sam says, looking at a plate crusted over with something he’s afraid to touch, let alone breathe near.

“dirty AND full,” dean says. “what ARE THE BUNKER RULES?”

Sam and cas look rightfully shamefaced as they mumble, “always run the dishwasher when its full.”

Dean goes to the freezer and pulls out the ice cream he wanted to eat.

“See this?” he asks, waving it in their faces. “this was _our_ ice cream. but now. well, now one of you have ruined ice cream. congratulations.”

Dean grabs a ladel from their second utensil drawer and walks out of the kitchen with both it and the ice cream in hand.

“ciao,” he waves the ladel in farewell. “I hope we all learned a valuable lesson today.”

After dean leaves, sam turns to cas.

“this may have been my mistake,” he admits. “and I cant really give apologetic blowjobs to my brother.”

“well I’m the one who’s now missing out on the ice cream,” cas says.

“im not going to give you an apologetic blow job either, cas.”

“I was actually angling for some ice cream.”

“right. Yeah.” Sam nods. “that I can probably do.”

Sam lumbers out of the room and cas smiles serenely to himself. What sam doesn’t know is that _he_ was the one to fill the dishwasher, but he removed a glass and cleaned it by hand, orchestrating this whole endeavor.

now sam is going to buy him ice cream. and dean is going to give him ice cream, because cas hid a clean spoon in the bread box about an hour ago like the ice cream mastermind he is so dean will have no choice but to share with him, and he’s also going to kiss dean _while_ eating ice cream, which is kind of gross but also nice.

He presses the start button on the dishwasher, smirking. 


End file.
